


All This and Heaven Too

by Galaxy_Collector



Category: Sterek (Fandom), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Domestic Fluff, Feels, Fluff and Humor, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, M/M, One Shot, Pining Derek, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:27:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25117645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galaxy_Collector/pseuds/Galaxy_Collector
Summary: Derek doesn't realize he and Stiles are dating. Stiles fixes that.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 28
Kudos: 555





	All This and Heaven Too

The first night Stiles had climbed into his bed, Derek knew why he’d chosen him. It hadn’t been hard to figure out. No one else could have given him what Derek could, and he certainly wasn’t an unwilling party. 

The Void had picked Stiles’ bones clean, and laying there all exposed and raw had led him to seek out the only other person he knew who had experience with this level of grief and despair. The only other person who knew how it felt to no longer recognize yourself. The only other person who still struggled to put themselves back together into something others might find comfortable enough to want to be around. 

But now Derek was heartbroken. And he didn’t have anyone else to blame but himself. 

Derek Hale was a _fucking_ idiot.

If he’d been smart about the whole thing, he would’ve realized he could have Stiles without getting attached. But now they were here and he was the only one feeling the panic that accompanied the thought of someone slipping away. 

Stiles needed him less and less lately, and again, Derek was responsible. He had put Stiles back together in all the ways that counted, completely ignoring his own needs and feelings. But that’s what he always did. It was his default setting. And Derek also found it hard to pretend like he wouldn’t do it all again. 

Even if this was where they ended up. 

For one thing, he knew he wouldn’t trade any of it. Not the tears against his bare chest as Stiles explained what it felt like to be trapped inside his own mind. Not the breathless moments when Stiles kissed him for the first time. And certainly not the many nights and lazy afternoons they’d spent as a pile of tangled limbs, unsure where one of them ended and the other began. 

But it didn’t hurt any less either. Well, it didn’t hurt _Derek_ any less. Stiles seemed fine. More than fine. He seemed… happy, content, blissful. 

Derek, of course, had known what this was from the beginning, and when all was said and done, he didn’t have the right to ask for anything else. It wasn’t fair knowing that Stiles didn’t have it in him to give. 

And Derek would rather have him like this than not at all.

Which was why, when Stiles knocked on the door to his loft at exactly 7:00, like he always did, Derek told him to come in as he wondered why he even bothered to knock anymore. Surely Stiles knew Derek couldn’t turn him away. 

Or he prayed he knew that. 

“Hey, you,” Stiles said, giving him a smirk. “Did you eat without me?”

“No,” he issued quietly, shaking his head. “I always wait for you.”

“You better,” Stiles mumbled. 

And then, like all the other nights, he headed straight for the kitchen and began to raid the fridge. Except now, unlike in the first stages of whatever they were, Derek had made sure to stock it with an equal mix of junk food he knew Stiles liked and staples for his own diet. Derek had hoped he might influence Stiles a little, but as he pulled out the bag of frozen curly fries and chicken breasts, he realized it was probably the other way around. 

And God, he wanted to hate him for it. Hate him for anything, really. Maybe it would hurt less to breathe. Right now it was like inhaling glass, his insides shredding. 

“Would you eat it if I made us some _baked_ chicken and curly fries? Or do you want some asparagus and red potatoes again?” Stiles asked, wrinkling his nose. “I’ll do the lemon pepper recipe you like.”

“Make whatever you want,” he said. “I’ll eat it.”

Stiles snorted. “Yeah, right, Sourwolf. You’ll just eat the chicken and then be starving right after the movie we’re gonna pretend to watch later.”

Derek fought a smile at the completely accurate assessment by biting on his bottom lip and focusing on the glossy pages of the magazine in his lap that he most certainly wasn’t reading. 

“I’ll eat the goddamn curly fries,” Derek muttered, flipping the pages slowly. 

“Thank you,” Stiles answered in a sing-song voice as he turned on the stove. “Was that so hard?”

“Yes,” Derek mumbled. 

Stiles scoffed, but it quickly dissolved into a low chuckle as he shook his head and made his way around the kitchen that had been installed for him and him alone. 

A fact which Derek could never share. 

After a few more quiet minutes spent listening to Stiles hum as he prepped the food, Derek could feel his eyes on him. But he was too scared to look. Too scared to know what it meant when Stiles did this from time to time. Too scared this would be the end if Derek burst whatever intricately crafted bubble they had created for themselves. 

“Are you okay?” Stiles asked. “You seem… odd lately. Well, more odd, I guess. Odd-e _r_? You’re always odd.”

Derek didn’t answer the question outright, not trusting himself to speak. Lately, he had felt more and more like anytime he talked he was in danger of revealing his position. As if he said more than two words about dinner, Stiles would find out all his secrets. They seemed to be perched precariously on the tip of his tongue at all times, and since he didn’t know how to talk without unleashing all of his own emotional baggage onto Stiles, he kept quiet. 

It was safer for both of them.

“Derek?” Stiles asked. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” he lied. 

“No. You’re not,” Stiles insisted. “And you’re a bad liar. You’re not even reading. That’s upside down.”

Derek blinked rapidly as he took in the magazine for the first time and noticed that he did, in fact, have it upside down. He’d only grabbed it when Stiles walked in to seem like he had a life when he wasn’t around instead of counting down the minutes until he showed his face again. 

He thought it made him less pathetic. But then again, it only worked if he actually made a better effort to lie. 

Stiles walked over slowly until he was standing directly in front of Derek, and pulled the magazine out of his lap. He crossed his arms, waiting for some sort of intelligible response for Derek, but he didn’t have one. Instead, he ran his hands over his face and leaned back further into the couch. 

Without warning, Stiles dropped his arms and sat in Derek’s lap, straddling his legs. And he couldn’t help the smile that spread then. 

God, he wanted to hate him. 

“What are you doing?” Derek asked, the laughter evident in his voice. “I thought it was dinner, movie, then sex.”

“I know you like your routine, but if you need someone to get you out of your head for a minute, everything else can wait,” Stiles retorted. “And if I recall, I’m pretty good at getting you outta that pretty head of yours.”

He leaned forward without waiting for Derek to respond and his breath hitched like it did every time. As if he couldn't believe someone like Stiles was kissing _him._ Which made sense, because he couldn’t think of one reason why that would be the case. 

Derek was broken. And while Stiles had certainly been vacationing on the isle of depression, this was Derek’s home. He didn’t know anything else. And just like everybody Derek had loved, Stiles would eventually get tired of being dragged down, literally and figuratively, by hanging around the supernatural too long. 

And Derek knew it would kill him when that time finally did come. 

“Derek,” Stiles whined, when Derek froze. “What is wrong? Did _I_ do something?”

“Wh—what? No. Why would you think that?”

Stiles shrugged as he pulled back. “You just stopped talking to me in the last couple of days. You hardly say two words now.”

“You usually do all the talking,” Derek quipped.

“Don’t do that,” Stiles commanded. “That’s my thing. You can take a lot of stuff, but not my smartassery, sir.”

Derek’s mouth twitched and the hint of a smile ghosted across his face before it fell back into his much more permanent scowl. 

“Derek, seriously, you’re freaking me out,” Stiles announced. “Are you… are you breaking up with me?”

His eyes began to swim with tears and he ducked his head as Derek’s mouth fell open with an audible pop. 

“How can I break up with you?” Derek blurted out. “We’re not dating.”

Stiles’ head jerked back up to Derek quickly when the words tumbled out of his mouth, one single tear rolling down his cheek before he stumbled to get away from him. 

“I can’t believe you just _said_ that,” he said forcefully. “If you didn’t want to do this anymore, fine. But what the fuck? You don’t have to be an asshole. You could’ve just asked me to leave.”

“I… I don’t want you to leave,” Derek responded truthfully, standing up too. “I never want you to leave.”

Stiles threw his hands up, clearly frustrated by what must seem like a rapidly fluctuating mood in him. But Derek was struggling to keep up with the conversation. He’d never been more confused than he was at this moment. 

“Derek,” Stiles growled, “I have no idea how to respond to that. First you lie and say we’re not dating and then you say you don’t want me to leave. I can’t keep up. Which is it?”

“ _I_ can’t keep up,” Derek insisted. 

“What?”

“We aren’t… are we… dating?”

Stiles stood there, hands on his hips, eyes narrowed as he advanced back on Derek. He wasn’t as tall, but Derek still swallowed nervously as he took in the fire behind Stiles’ eyes. 

“Yes, you idiot. We’ve been dating for, like, six months. It’s our goddamn anniversary. How did you not know this?”

“Six… anniversary? What?” he asked, struggling to breathe for a whole other set of reasons now. “How did I… but you didn’t say…”

“Oh my God, Derek. Is _that_ why you’re being weird?” Stiles laughed. 

“It’s not funny, Stiles,” Derek retorted. “I thought… I thought you were gonna stop, ya know.” He pointed between them to signal what he meant, but it was clear that Stiles wanted him to say it out loud. “I thought you were going to stop coming over all the time.” 

“And that bothered you?”

“Of course it fucking bothered me.”

Stiles shook his head and then headed back to the kitchen, leaving Derek staring after him as he walked away. 

“My boyfriend is an idiot,” Stiles mumbled. 

Boyfriend. 

He was Stiles’ boyfriend and somehow he had completely missed it. 

Derek Hale was a _fucking_ idiot.

But at least now he was an idiot who knew he wasn’t alone anymore. 

Derek raced toward Stiles’ retreating figure just as he pulled open the oven to check on the food, grabbing his free hand and throwing him toward the counter. 

Derek didn’t bother to warn him as he put his hands under his ass and propped Stiles up on the tiled island, next to the sink, causing a tiny yelp to escape his lips. The smirk Derek had on suddenly morphed into something absolutely sinister as he trailed his tongue along Stiles’ jawline and down his neck, soaking in the scent of unabashed lust he was giving off. 

“The chicken,” Stiles huffed, not fighting against Derek’s assault at all. 

“Fuck the chicken,” Derek answered.

“Ew, no,” Stiles complained. “Salmonella.”

Derek stopped his attack on Stiles’ neck as he gave the bark-like laugh that only this man had been able to get out of him, knowing there was no way he could be happier or more content and blissful than he was right now. 

With Stiles. His boyfriend. 

**Author's Note:**

> I live off comments and kudos, so toss a coin to your fanfic author.
> 
> You can also hang out with me on Tumblr and request things here: [the-galaxy-collector](https://www.the-galaxy-collector.tumblr.com)
> 
> Or at my _Teen Wolf_ Discord Server here: [ The Beacon Hills Preserve](https://discord.gg/xm24uP6)


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